Of Bad Boys and Babies
by x Ugly Duckling x
Summary: Two-shot. If Mr. Turner had accepted Miss Tompkins' challenge to commit to her, here's what might have happened. Featuring shenanigans by Shawn & Corey, of course.
1. Chapter 1

_So I've been re-watching Boy Meets World online. I'm almost through the 2__nd__ season, and may I just say that as a child, I never fully appreciated how hot Mr. Turner is. Good gravy. Those jeans…_

_I read about the upcoming seasons and saw that Shawn moves in with him for a time. Also, his love interest Katherine Tompkins presses him to make a commitment, which he declines in favor of caring for Shawn. This story is an alternate outcome to all that. Here, he harbors Shawn AND marries Kat. Why not have your cake and eat it too?_

_This is just a fun two-shot of that scenario. Enjoy!_

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**Part 1**

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The morning bell rang throughout John Adams high, signaling the start of a new school year as students shuffled into their homerooms. Brand new sneakers and backpacks flashed down the aisles until, at last, everyone was in place. All, that is, except one. A desk in the rear of Mr. Turner's classroom sat conspicuously empty. He eyed it coldly, then buried his nose in the class roster.

"…Matthews?" he called last.

"Here," Corey raised a lackluster hand. The other was supporting his chin.

Mr. Turner cocked an eyebrow. "Funny seeing you here without your other half."

Yawning, Corey shrugged. "He'll be here…. I think. Long night."

"Judging by your energy level, I'd say so."

The English teacher tried to draw something more out of him with a threatening frown, but Corey's eyelids were half closed. He sighed and turned back to the chalkboard.

Halfway through discussing the syllabus, a faint rustling interrupted him. He looked up to find a drowsy and sheepish-looking Shawn slip into his chair.

"Mr. Hunter, welcome!" he strode toward him nonchalantly. "So very glad you could join us this morning. An auspicious way to begin ninth grade."

Shawn's haggard eyes darted between the floor and Mr. Turner's face every few seconds. Shifting uncomfortably, he offered no sarcastic retort or smart comment. Corey, meanwhile, fidgeted and vibrated his knees.

"Well, you missed the better part of the syllabus. Not that it makes any difference to you either way," Turner tapped his folder against Shawn's desk before strolling toward the front of the classroom.

Shawn rolled his eyes at the insult. Waiting until Mr. Turner was caught up in his next lecture, Corey turned slightly in his chair.

"What took you so long?" he whispered, agitated.

"I missed the bus."

"You should've just gotten up when I told you to!"

"Hey, I barely got four hours of sleep. You're lucky I made it at all."

"Next time you stay over, I'm throwing your Gameboy out the window if you play past 2:00 AM."

"Yeah, if there even is a 'next time,'" Shawn murmured.

A stern cough broke their conversation. "Gentlemen! Another word and you'll both hold the record for earliest detentions of the year."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Lunchtime couldn't some soon enough for the best friends, who hunkered down at their usual table, keeping a watchful eye for Mr. Turner or Mr. Feeny.

"So has he said anything to you? Between classes, I mean?" Corey interrogated.

Shawn stabbed his food and shook his head. "We've pretty much avoided each other all morning."

"Guess he'll just save it all for when you get home tonight, huh?"

"You can bet on it."

"Geez," Corey slumped his shoulders, "You'd think he'd cut you a break after living together all summer."

Shawn laughed to himself. "Wishful thinking, especially since Miss Tompkins moved in."

"Except she's not Miss Tompkins anymore, Shawn. She's Mrs. Turner."

"Yeah, whatever. All I know is things were going fine until she showed up."

"What'd she do?"

"_She's_ done nothing. Not directly," Shawn looked past Corey, his frown deepening. "It's all Turner. One day he's fine with me being a little late for curfew, the next he's yelling at me like Mr. Feeny… if not worse."

Corey looked particularly stricken at this. "Yeesh, that's bad! Do you think she's making him act like that?"

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "I don't know… she's nice enough to me. I think maybe Turner's trying to prove something to her."

"Prove what?"

"That he's an authoritative, fatherly type."

Corey almost snorted juice from his nose. "What?! Shawn, that's the most ridiculous, hilarious thing I've ever heard!"  
"Shh, keep your voice down!" Shawn nodded toward the cafeteria door, where the newly wedded Turners had just entered.

"Sorry," Corey dropped his voice as best he could. "But you have to admit that's pretty funny. Turner with a _fatherly_ side? Come on!"

Lowering his gaze, Shawn pushed food around on his tray. "He seemed to be doing all right… until he started going overboard."

From across the room, the two boys stole furtive glances at Jonathan and Katherine, who stood with arms intertwined in the food service line. The longer Corey looked, the more enthralled he became at the prospect of Mr. Turner's alter ego. Respectable family man, driving a minivan with those cheesy static cling figures on the back window. Was it really possible?

He took one last look at Mr. Turner's rear-hugging black jeans and cowboy boots and shook his head. _Nah. Never happen._

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

The first several weeks of ninth grade went smoothly enough, considering Corey and Shawn's contact became limited to school hours only. One or two phone calls a week were all they were allowed. With Mr. Turner more intent than ever on bringing Shawn's grades up, the boy was on academic lockdown every weeknight.

They were slowly adjusting to the "new normal" and accepting it when they sensed a shift in the status quo.

It started out as insignificant things, hardly worth noticing really. Shawn told Corey that Mr. Turner kept misplacing things at home. Usually one for precise organization and structure, he seemed more absent-minded than usual. But he managed to get it together in time for class.

Then he stopped managing even that. One day he passed out blank papers in place of a multiple-choice test. Upon realizing his blunder, he collected them in a hurry and dashed out of the room to make copies.

"What's up with him lately?" Corey nudged Shawn.

"It's what I've been telling you – he's all over the place. It's like he's losing his mind piece by piece."

"And you can't tell what's going on?"

"Hey, I don't follow the guy's shadow everywhere he goes," Shawn defended. "We may live in the same house but we each have our privacy."

"Well what good are ya then?" Corey threw up his arms in mock dismay.

Shawn thought a moment. "There is something I forgot to mention. Yesterday I heard the last few seconds of him on the phone. It sounded like he was getting a trade-in value for his Harley."

"You're right, he _is_ losing his mind! Are you sure he hasn't been abducted by aliens lately?"

"I haven't seen any strange lights or flying saucers. But I have heard strange sounds coming from the bathroom early in the morning."

"Like the sound of his skull being sawed open, his brain extracted and replaced with artificial alien intelligence?" offered Corey.

"No, just the sound of someone throwing up – I think."

Corey made a face. "I don't need to know that."

"Too late," Shawn smirked.

Mr. Turner returned just then with a stack of freshly copied tests, still warm from the printer. He hastily passed them out, muttering his apologies as he did so.

"Sorry about that. Here's your test for _'The Old Man and the Baby,'_" he faltered, almost dropping sheets all over the floor. "Er, I mean, _'The Old Man and the Sea._'"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"Psst, George!"

Mr. Feeny heard a faint buzzing in his ear like an insect. He swatted at the air behind his head and kept walking down the hall, monitoring the students before classes began that morning.

"George!"

There it was again, a tickle on his eardrum. Feeny wriggled a finger in his ear. Maybe he should see the doctor. Sometimes his earwax built up and needed to be cleaned out…

"GEORGE!"

This time it registered as Jonathan Turner's desperate voice coming from a crack in the janitor closet's door. Seeing the man's frantic hands gesturing to him, the principal made his way over with measured steps.

"Jonathan, what in the world –"

"Just get in here!" a pair of hands grabbed him by the arm, leaving him no choice.

"– are you doing in here?" Feeny finished, bewildered.

"I need to talk to you, and I can't risk anyone overhearing – not even in the teacher's lounge."

"It must be very serious, then," George's brow furrowed and he crossed his arms.

Mr. Turner swallowed nervously. "In some ways, yes. In others, it's rather silly."

"All right, let's hear it."

The other man rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his neck slowly grew red. "Well, you know, Kat and I got married this summer."

"Yes, Jonathan. I was at your wedding, remember?"

"Oh. Of course," he laughed in embarrassment. "And, um, you know Shawn Hunter's been staying at my place until his parents get back later this year?"

"Indeed. You sought my advice on that matter several months ago."

"Ah-huh. Right. So… I need to tell someone or I'll go completely insane," Turner drew a deep breath. "Shawn's not going to be the only child living under my roof."

"Oh? Are you considering hosting an exchange student?" posited Feeny.

Turner exhaled slowly. "No, George."

A significant look passed between the two of them. It didn't take long for Mr. Feeny to get the message.

"Ah! A new _permanent_ member to your household is coming," George grinned. "Congratulations. How is Katherine feeling?"

"Fine… besides the morning sickness. But she's not the one you need to worry about, see… I'm the one going crazy!"

"Whatever for?" George laughed.

"For starters, I don't know the first thing about raising a baby! Unless there are any similarities between diaper changing and motorcycle maintenance, I'm doomed!" he shook Feeny by the shoulders. "Secondly, there's my image."

"Your what?"

"My image… you know, how kids see me around here. All this time, I've had this reputation as the 'cool' teacher, the one with the leather jacket and motorcycle helmet. What'll happen when I trade those in for a burp cloth and minivan keys?"

"You'll still be the same teacher you've always been."

"You and I know that, but to them, perception is everything. If I lose my cool edge, I lose control and influence."

George chuckled, quite taken by his colleague's identity crisis. "You realize you're over-thinking this just a bit."

"That's all you have to say? Those are your only words of encouragement?" cried Jonathan.

"What do you need from me?"

"A promise – that you won't tell another soul in the entire building, not even Bud the janitor."

"Ironic, considering where we're presently standing," George glanced at a nearby mop.

"Do you promise?"

"If it means that much to you, I promise."

"Thank you."

"No problem. But Jonathan?" Feeny leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially.

"Yes?" he leaned in.

"In a few short months, it won't matter whether I keep my mouth shut or not. Everyone's going to find out sooner or later. Or do you plan on extricating your wife to another school district until she gives birth?"

Mr. Turner's eyes suddenly gazed into the distance. "Hey, I hadn't thought of that…"

Feeny swatted him on the arm. "Snap out of it, that was a joke! Pull yourself together and accept the fact that, like it or not, your life is about to change in many ways – the least of which is your 'big man on campus' image."

Jonathan nodded but the color was slowly draining from his face. He wobbled off-balance and steadied himself against one of the shelves.

"Just take a long, deep breath in, then let it out nice and slowly," George directed him. "That's it. Again, deep breath in, slow breath out. Good."

After a few more repetitions, George patted him on the shoulder.

"There now, just be glad you don't have to do that while squeezing a watermelon through a cardboard tube," he said drily before exiting.

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Dinner at the Turners' table was awkward that evening. Shawn asked Mr. Turner to pass the butter and instead got Katherine's half-finished glass of milk. Then there were the dozens of smoldering looks they batted at each other, as if Shawn wouldn't notice. How could he not when that was the only communication used all night?

Things were going from weird to weirder, he knew that much. What he didn't know was why. At times it nagged him, but Mr. Turner kept him too busy with chores and homework to have much time to dwell on it.

Ten o'clock came and he was rubbing his tired eyes. Shuffling to the bathroom, he reached for his toothbrush to commence his bedtime routine. In his fatigue, however, he knocked over the cup and his brush; they both fell into the trashcan.

It was dim in the bathroom, the only light coming from a nightlight on the other side of the mirror. Down below the sink was a shadowy place and Shawn didn't feel like turning on the light. So he fumbled in the trash, feeling for his toothbrush. At last he felt its smooth plastic handle. Standing back up, he grabbed the toothpaste and was about to squeeze some onto the brush when he noticed...

The brush didn't have any bristles.

Shawn squinted at the thing in his hand. On closer inspection, it was clearly not his toothbrush. Nor was it anyone else's toothbrush. While it had a smooth, ergonomic handle similar to a toothbrush, it had a flat wedge-shaped end covered in a plastic cap.

He walked over to hold it under the nightlight. Five seconds later, he dropped it onto the floor and fled from the bathroom, not bothering to brush his teeth.

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The phone ringing at 10:00 PM was not a welcome sound at the Matthews residence, but Alan answered it nonetheless. There was always that slim possibility that it was an emergency.

Or it was the millionth time that Shawn provoked them at this hour.

"Corey! Telephone! Keep it under five minutes!" Alan hollered upstairs.

The boy shuffled down the steps and took the receiver from his perturbed father. "Hello?"

"Corey, you won't believe what I just found!"

"Shawn, can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"No. Trust me, it's too good to wait."

"Hurry up and tell me then, or my dad will cut the phone lines."

"Okay, but this is a secret so big, you need to swear to keep it just between the two of us, all right?"

"Yeah, I swear. Tell me already!"

"I found a pregnancy test in the upstairs bathroom."

"Huh?"

"You know what those are Corey."

"So what's your point?"

"It was positive."

Blinking, Corey stared at the wall. Understanding gradually made his mouth fall open.

"You're saying…"

"Miss Tompkins is…"  
"…having Mr. Turner's baby!"

"Yes!"

"She's not _Miss Tompkins_ anymore!" Corey vehemently reminded him.

"That's beside the point! Corey, do you realize what this means?"

He thought a moment. "Yeah. You touched a stick she peed on."

"Come on, work with me here! Clearly, Turner and his wife are keeping it from everyone right now," Shawn inferred. "But you and I know."

"What good does that do us?"

"Plenty," Shawn grinned devilishly. "We'll talk more tomorrow. I gotta put that test back where I found it."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

A few uneventful days followed that phone conversation. Only two people knew it was just the calm before the storm. While Shawn and Corey plotted various ways to antagonize Mr. Turner, he was watching everyone with intense paranoia, looking for the slightest sign that anyone knew his secret.

He was almost lulled into a sense of security when the pranks began.

At first they were coincidences, things out of place that struck Turner as odd. He found a baby bottle next to his lunch in the teacher's lounge refrigerator. Then a package of unused diapers somehow managed to wedge itself beneath his front motorcycle tire.

After a couple weeks, it became impossible to ignore. A pacifier on a string was tied to his bike handle. A diaper was awkwardly affixed to his bike seat. A tube of diaper rash cream was found rolling around his top desk drawer. Each time he made a discovery, he looked around for the culprit. But all he ever saw were young innocent faces passing by.

He'd confronted Feeny, of course. Accused him of violating his oath and spreading the news all over school. The Principal ardently denied it, and while Turner wanted to have a scapegoat, he just couldn't convict Feeny. The man was unimpeachable and would never break his word, especially among the ranks of high school students.

It was all starting to give Turner indigestion, but he was thankful that whoever was behind the pranks hadn't chosen to make the knowledge public. _Yet_.

Thanksgiving approached and Kat's wardrobe underwent some changes. Boxy shirts and shapeless dresses replaced her tailored jumpers. Some students noticed, but most couldn't care less – except for two troublemakers.

Corey and Shawn hadn't yet decided what their next move should be. The baby-themed pranks were growing old. They needed fresh material, but what?

The answer came when Corey was exiting the restroom during lunch hour one day. He stepped out into the hallway just in time to spot Kat slipping into Mr. Turner's classroom, lunchbag in hand. The door closed and Corey heard the distinct click of the lock. There was no way to spy on them through the frosted pane in the door.

Instantly the wheels started turning in his mind. Inspiration soon struck and he rushed off to find Shawn in the cafeteria.

"I've got our next move!" he rubbed his hands together fiendishly.

"Do tell!"

"Mrs. Turner spends her lunch in Mr. Turner's classroom."

Shawn smacked his forehead. "Why didn't we realize that before?"

"Look, my dad won a miniature camcorder from a raffle at work," Corey went on eagerly. "I say we hide it in the back of Turner's classroom and get some footage!"

"That's brilliant!"

"I'll bring it to school tomorrow. Now the real fun begins!"

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Tucked surreptitiously between two potted plants on the back counter sat Corey's camcorder. He and Shawn had crossed their fingers all morning that Mr. Turner wouldn't notice the red blinking light. Lunchtime came, though, without him suspecting a thing. The boys scurried away, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. They lurked behind the restroom door just long enough to confirm Mrs. Turner was on schedule.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

After a visit to the school recording studio, Corey possessed a VHS tape of evidence. He and Shawn raced home faster than ever before, flew up the stairs, and inserted the video in his bedroom VCR.

There sat Mr. Turner at his desk, grading papers when the turn of a door handle caught his attention. He promptly stood and greeted his wife with a kiss, inviting her to take a seat in the chair he pulled over.

"Same thing as yesterday?" he inquired as she opened her bag.

"Pretty much."

"Tuna sandwich and spinach salad?"

"Mm-hm. With a brownie for dessert," she waved the baked good under his nose.

He raised a dubious eyebrow at her. "What nutritional value does that add?"

"Hey, the baby wants what the baby wants," she answered imperiously.

They ate in comfortable silence, chatting about school-related matters here and there, but nothing much was said. Shawn and Corey were starting to doubt whether this was worth their time when Mrs. Turner's hand flew to her stomach.

"Oh! That was a good one!" she exclaimed.

"A kick?" Mr. Turner's eyes widened and he sat straight up.

She nodded vigorously, taking his hand to place next to hers. "I think you'll be able to feel it this time."

A hushed moment followed while Mr. Turner waited, and then his face exploded in joy.

"I felt it!" he sounded giddy. "I finally felt it!"

Kat laughed at his boyish enthusiasm. "See, I told you the time would come. You just had to be patient."

His hands were glued to her belly, which he caressed through her red silk blouse. "Is baby getting big and strong? Who's daddy's little soccer player?"

More cooing and terms of sweet endearment followed while Kat sat there, smiling at how her husband could be so easily reduced to a puddle of goo.

Shawn pounded Corey's shoulder as he laughed hysterically. This – this footage was solid gold. To capture the tough Mr. Turner in such a tender, vulnerable moment was priceless. They had to silence their laughter, however, when the Turners started conversing again.

"You're such a dufus sometimes," she laughed. "If you're this happy about the baby, why do you want to still keep it a secret?"

He pulled a face. "Kat, we've been over this a dozen times. I feel like I'm torn in two directions."

"One of those two directions is going to win, and you know which one."

"Yes, but at least let me savor what little time I have left as the 'cool' teacher!" he said pleadingly.

Kat chuckled, shaking her head. "Fine, but I can only hide this bulge for so long. You're just delaying the inevitable."

"Please, just a couple more months?"

"I'll do my best," she snorted.

"That's why I love you," he kissed her cheek and laid a palm on her stomach again. "And you, whoever you are. I love you too, little baby dumpling."

Somehow, despite quaking with laughter, Corey managed to hit the pause button on the remote. For several minutes, all he and Shawn could do was clutch their sides and gasp for air.

"That… was… perfect!" Corey sputtered.

"It's better than I could have ever imagined!"

"His reputation is shot, Shawn. Down the tubes!"

"Now the question is, how do we use this to its fullest potential?"

"Like you don't know that already."

A cunning smile spread across Shawn's mouth. "How well you know me, Mr. Matthews."

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Part 2**

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The boys let a full, uneventful day of classes pass before making their move. Best to corner Mr. Turner at the end of the day without any distractions.

So they loitered just outside his classroom, waiting with videotape in hand. When he walked out they were ready.

"Mr. Turner, how are you this afternoon?" Corey stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

"Fine," he eyed them strangely.

"Glad to hear it. Are you feeling 'fine' enough to, say, let Shawn stay over at my house this weekend?"

"Don't count on it."

Corey winked at Shawn, who stepped forward. "Can anything make you reconsider?"

He smiled condescendingly at the boy. "Fat chance."

"You might, if you knew what was on this tape," Shawn pulled it from behind his back.

"All right, I'm intrigued. What's on the tape?"

"Oh, nothing. Just your lunch with Mrs. Turner yesterday."

Turner's eyebrows pinched together. "What?"

"It's all on here… rubbing her stomach, making silly voices and saying 'little baby dumpling,'" Shawn convulsed with laughter again.

Their teacher froze, eyes jumping from one conniving boy to the other. Were they bluffing? The sinister look in their eyes didn't indicate they were.

"You… _filmed_ us without our consent?!"

"Uh-huh. Crystal clear audio-video quality," Corey proudly replied.

Turner ran a nervous hand through his hair, then feinted to try to swipe the tape, but Shawn withdrew it a second too soon.

"Nice try, but the only way to keep this a secret is to agree to some terms."

"I can't wait to hear them."

"For starters, no homework on the weekends. Weekends are for staying over at Corey's."

Mr. Turner listened with arms crossed, but didn't say a word.

"And no more of those salads Kat makes."

He cocked his head to one side.

"And, um…" Shawn wracked his brain for something else. "…I don't have to do any chores around the house!"

Mr. Turner waited a minute, then nodded once. "Is that everything?"

Shawn looked to Corey, who stared back stupidly.

"Yep!" asserted Shawn.

"I see. And if I don't meet your terms, you'll what? Play that video at your friends' houses?"

"We might," Corey hedged. "But that's not our preferred method of broadcasting."

"We're thinking bigger audience," Shawn spread his hands wide, glancing around the hall.

That hit Turner's stomach like a brick. "You're going to play it here? At school?"

"That's the idea."

"Unless, of course, we're persuaded otherwise," Corey nudged him.

What a fantastic situation they'd put him in. He could try restricting the A/V club from accepting any submissions from the boys, but he knew the futility of that. Matthews and Hunter would find a way. They always did. He'd be a fool to assume this time would be any different.

A bead of sweat tickled the edge of his neck as he eyed the tape. _Little baby dumpling_…

Which should he choose, his reputation or his integrity as Shawn's guardian? His image or his paternal strength of character?

He closed his eyes, knowing the painful choice he must make. At the end of the day, his image was worth nothing if he couldn't go home and look himself in the mirror, knowing he stood by his principles.

"No deal."

"What was that? I'm not sure we heard you right, Mr. Turner," Corey cupped a hand around his ear.

"I said, no deal," Turner averted his eyes.

"Are you sure about that?"

He bit his lip. "Yes."

Shrugging with a sigh, Corey looked at Shawn with resignation. "Well, there you have it Shawn. Mr. Turner's made his choice."

"Indeed he has. Well, it was a pleasure doing with business with you, Mr. Turner. At least we can say we knew you when you were still cool."

They turned to leave when Turner spoke up. "Will it be tomorrow?"

Pausing, the pair conferred silently with each other. "Maybe, maybe not. But it _is_ coming."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Predictably, chores and restrictions increased for Shawn, whose guardians were none too pleased with his antics. But he'd left the videotape in Corey's hands for safekeeping. Besides, a few extra chores were worth it, given the payoff. He and Corey would go down in John Adams history for this.

They let the Turners sweat it out a couple weeks, then slipped the tape to Alvin in the broadcasting studio. The tape had been edited to include an intro by its producers.

"Greetings, students of John Adams high! I'm Corey Matthews, and this is my partner in crime, Shawn Hunter."

"We're pleased to present to you today a documentary that may shock you."

"While we go to and from class, learning mundane things each day, two of our teachers have been hiding a secret right under our noses."

"That's right. What you'll see today proves that everyone is not always what they appear, not even our esteemed educators!"

"Brace yourselves, fellow students, and witness the veil fall away…"

The scene cut to classroom, showing Mr. Turner adoring his wife's belly. After a minute, it zoomed in to his face as he uttered the phrase "little baby dumpling" for the first time. And the second, and third, and fourth… The master video editors had looped that moment in time, repeating the words over and over until the whole school roared with laughter.

Loudest of all were Corey and Shawn, who pounded their desks mercilessly. The video played at the start of homeroom, which was hosted by none other than Mr. Turner. His face was a brilliant shade of red as he shot withering glares at them.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Over the next few months, life returned to normal. Or more accurately, the new normal. For Mr. Turner that meant being congratulated by everyone he passed in the halls, and enduring a faculty-hosted baby shower in early spring. But overall, he couldn't complain.

He learned to adjust to his new image, which despite being softer in some ways, wasn't all that bad. His students grasped that pregnancy didn't occur without manly intervention, so his masculinity wasn't quite as threatened as he'd feared.

His son's birth coincided well with the end of the school year. Mrs. Turner took leave a month before finals, and Mr. Turner followed a couple weeks later. A week after that, they visited school with a tiny bundle in their arms, its head covered in dark curly hair. They had a full summer to spend with the newborn before resuming classes.

On the last day of school, Corey returned home and threw his bag on the kitchen floor with a sigh of sweet relief. Another year down, and in September he'd be in tenth grade. Life was good.

He wandered into the living room, where his father was seated at the couch reading the newspaper.

"Hey Corey," Alan greeted, turning the page. "How was your last day?"

"Glorious!" he bounded toward the stairs.

He was halfway up when Alan called after him. "It says here your teacher Mr. Turner had a baby. Why didn't you mention that to us?"

Corey laughed self-consciously. "Oh, you know… kids don't really notice or care about that sort of thing. Gotta go, see ya at dinner!"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

_Well there you have it. Not sure if anyone's entertained by this fandom anymore, but hopefully a few readers will find it along the way._

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End file.
